


Find Your Fantastic

by masterroadtripper



Series: The Promise of Tomorrow [1]
Category: Mary Poppins (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Bisexual Male Character, Figuring Things Out, Gay Male Character, Jack is figuring things out, M/M, Mutual Coming Out, Non-Graphic Violence, Trans Jack, Violence, ace/aro character, cute kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 21,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterroadtripper/pseuds/masterroadtripper
Summary: Jack, Jane and Michael all have secrets.  Turns out, they aren't as different as they seem.(Make sure y'all read chapter one, its new and explains why ~30 chapters disappeared)





	1. How this works

Alrighty, so as of February 27th, I decided to condense the chapters in this story. If you've been following along thus far, you'll notice chapters come out in groups of the same idea, so I took all the chapters of the same idea and put them into one. 

Whats gonna happen from now on, is I'll post the chapters of a grouping, then once the grouping is done, I'll condense them all into one chapter. If you want to post a comment, post it on the first chapter of the grouping (so it won't get deleted). 

I'm terribly sorry to the thirteen comments that ended up getting deleted when I condensed the chapters, but I really loved getting those comments-so please don't get discouraged, I love y'all.


	2. Chapters 1-4

**\--1--**

Once Mary Poppins had left and the Banks’ had all gone home to 17 Cherry Tree Lane, Jack found himself pedalling through the streets in an effort to quiet all the things his brain was screaming at him. He liked Jane...right? That’s what men were supposed to like...right?

So then why was it when Michael, Jane’s brother,  _for goodness sakes,_ bumped into him and their hands brushed together, he felt like his whole hand was on fire and his stomach had just jumped of a ten story building? He knew this wasn’t normal and definitely something there was no way he could pursue. So it was a fact he added to his vault of facts he never wanted to revisit and continued on his bike ride.

But as he past the bank, he automatically begun to think of Michael again. With his beautiful brown eyes. _NO, stop it Jack_. And his adorable moustache which he could imagine hid a much younger looking face. _Bad bad bad, stop this train of thought RIGHT NOW_. And the almost black curls on the top of his head that just looked so touchable. _STOP IT_.

Jack squeezed on the brakes of his bike and lurched to a stop on the bridge he was crossing. He dismounted with very little grace and walked the wooden frame of the bike towards the railing of the bridge and just stared into the water of the Thames. _Why me? Why him?_

 

**\--2--**

Michael made himself and Jane a cup of tea and as he was bringing it through to the sitting room, he saw just how pale Jane now looked. When they had arrived home after Mary Poppins left and Jack had left with his bike, Jane had told Annabelle, John and Georgie to go play upstairs. That usually meant that she wanted to have a conversation with him. _Oh God, had she seen how he was watching Jack today at the fair?_

It wasn’t his fault that the leerie that had arrived into their lives around the same time as Mary Poppins was so staggeringly handsome. With his rather hairless face, his adorable voice, his cute smile, he wasn’t surprised that he found Jack attractive.

He was only around twelve when he had a crush on a boy in his classes in school. Since then, he had rather reconciled with the fact that he seemed to have the ability to like either gender. But after he met his wife, Cate, he stopped enjoying the appearance of anyone other than her. Now, a year later, he had seen Jack. Nothing he could _or should_ do about it.

“Here Jane,” Michael said, passing a cup of tea to his older sister. He took his own and sat down in his chair. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t like Jack,” she said, but her voice held no venom or anger. It seemed not to be directed towards him, or Jack even. But herself.

“Like, you don’t wanna date him anymore?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“I don’t wanna date anyone Michael. I can’t love anyone that way it seems,” she said, slumping in the chair, carefully not spilling her tea. “Not boys, not girls. No one. And I don’t want to. It just seems so...unappealing.”

“That’s okay Jane,” Michael said, “No one is saying you have to. Mom and Dad aren’t here to tell you what to do. And all things considered, I shouldn’t either.”

 

**\--3--**

“What do you mean that you shouldn’t either?” Jane asked, trying to hide the disbelief behind her voice.

“I…,” Michael said, cutting himself off short. As if he simply didn’t want to say what was on his mind. “What if I told you I liked Jack?”

“I would tell you that that is incredible Michael!” she said, catapulting herself off the chair, not after putting her mug of tea down, and gave him a massive hug. She was so happy that her little brother wasn’t simply _broken_ after Cate had died last year. That he was still capable of loving.

“Its just, its illegal, and Jack likes you. Not me,” Michael said, smoothing his hand through his hair.

“I don’t think that that’s the case Michael,” she said, “you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looked at you at the fair.”

“R-r-really?” Michael stammered, his mouth open just in the way Mary Poppins always hated.

“Yeah,” Jane said, pulling away as tears of joy fell down her face and saw the same mirrored on her brother’s face. “I’d say; go for it.”

 

**\--4--**

Jack pulled the key to his flat out of the breast pocket of his leerie coat. Sure, the coat was a little tattered and torn in places, but it was the one that Bert had given him. There was no way he could replace it. He shrugged it of his shoulders and hung it up on the nail he had hammered into the wall near the door. The night had already fallen so he turned on one lamp on on his way through his tiny living space.

In the nook where his bed was, Jack begun to strip off his many layers of baggy shirts before placing them in a pile of things he would wear the next day. Once he was naked save for his pants and undershirt, Jack closed his eyes and mentally fortified himself for the next step of getting ready for bed. Pulling off the undershirt revealed the pieces of tight cloth wrapped tightly around the upper part of his torso. Unclipping the safety pin holding it all together, the bandages fell away from his sore rib cage and fluttered to the floor. Taking his first deep breath since before sunrise that morning, Jack fell backwards onto his bed and relished in the feeling of the ability to breathe properly again. He gave one big stretch like a cat would, cracking his back before falling right to sleep.

Waking before the sun, Jack climbed back into the skin he was more comfortable in and headed out of his apartment. Into the streets he went, humming his favourite song while hopping on and off of his bike, turing the lamps off as the sun rose. His route ended near Cherry Tree Lane, and so he decided to stop by and wish the Banks children off to a good day at school. And if you told him he had stopped by to also see Michael, he wouldn’t have been able to give you a straight answer.


	3. Chapters 5-8

**\--5--**

The children were in the kitchen with Ellen, eating breakfast before heading off to school, when Michael heard a soft rap on the front door.

“I’ll get it!” Georgie shouted, hopping off his chair and running out of the room before Michael could stop him. Tell him to sit down and finish eating his toast.

“Daddy, its Mr. Jack!” he heard Georgie call from the front entryway of the house and couldn’t prevent his heart from pounding harder if he tried.

“Bring him through,” Ellen shouted to Georgie from her place, currently cleaning a pot in the sink, “he must be hungry.”

“Look, Jack came to say hi,” Georgie said, a massive smile on his face as he dragged the leerie through the kitchen doors. The lamplighter had a massive smile on his face as he said good morning to Annabelle and John.

“Did you lock the door?” Michael asked Georgie. When the blond haired boy’s face dropped, he realized that his youngest son had forgotten to do it again.

“Don’ worry Michael, I got it behind ‘im,” Jack said, taking his cap from his head and scratching the back of his head.  

Ellen handed Jack a plate with some toast on it and before the young man could protest, she said, "eat up."

“Thank you Jack,” Michael said before turning to his youngest child, “eat up Georgie, you have to be out the door quickly.”

“I could give ‘em a ride,” Jack offered and Michael saw an adorable blush creep up his cheeks before he added, “If you want ‘em too, I mean.”

“I’m sure they would love it Jack,” Michael said, extending a hand and placing it on Jack’s sturdy and yet soft shoulder. If he thought he felt a little spark of electricity run up his arm, he wouldn’t have been surprised.

 

**\--6--**

After getting all three of the Banks’ children seated on his bike, Jack started pedalling them towards school.

“Jack?” he heard the chirp of John from behind him ask.

“Yeah John?” he replied without turning around or taking his eyes off the road ahead, now crowded with peddlers and vendors.

“Do you like Aunt Jane?” John asked and Jack had to physically restrain himself from slamming on the brakes. See, that was the true question wasn’t it? When he was little and would go around with Bert, cleaning chimneys and then lighting lamps, he would see the Banks’ and he thought he liked Jane. Because he was a guy, right? So he was supposed to like girls. But he wasn’t a guy. And yet he liked a guy. It was all too confusing.

“Of course,” Jack said, leaving it as open ended as possible. He could have just as easily tacked on a “as friends” onto the end.

“Aunt Jane said she didn’t like you last night,” Georgie blurted out, turning around in his place in the basket on the front of Jack’s bike and almost knocking them off balance.

“Georgie!” Annabelle shouted at him, “you agreed to follow the order!”

“Oh yeah,” Georgie said, crossing his arms and turning to face forwards again, “M’ sorry.”

“Your Aunt Jane doesn’t like me?” Jack asked, feeling mixed emotions. Didn’t he want Jane to like him? But what if Jane didn’t like him as a person. Or maybe she found out...about... _the thing_.

“She said she likes you as a person,” John attempted to explain, “but not as a boyfriend.”

“If she breaks up with you, will you leave us Jack?” Georgie asked, only looking over his shoulder this time.

“Never Georgie. I think I’ll be around for a little while yet,” Jack replied as they pulled up at the school, “alright, hop off.”

The children hopped off the bike and Jack watched as Georgie raced towards the playground where some kids were playing. John started to walk towards a clump of kids that Jack thought he had seen before while Annabelle hung back.

“Can I ask you a question Jack?”

 

**\--7--**

“Go ahead,” Annabelle heard Jack say over the drone of the playground. There were so many of her classmates around and it was so scary to ask Jack this. Especially about her father and Aunt Jane. She could remember last winter when the police went to a house a few streets away and arrested the man that lived there. “Crimes against nature,” she thought she could remember her father saying before explaining what it meant. She remembered very little about that evening, except that her father seemed sad. At the time she thought it was still because her mother had just died, but as of last night, she wasn’t sure that was the case.

After Aunt Jane had sent them upstairs once they got home after the Fair, Annabelle and John had distracted Georgie with setting up a game. They came to the conclusion that their father and Aunt Jane wanted to talk about something important, and they wanted to hear it. But Annabelle, John and Georgie heard...a little more than they thought they would.

“Daddy said...that...uh...I don’t know...how to say it,” she said, stumbling over her words. She wanted to tell Jack, because, well, it had to do with him.

“S’okay Annabelle, do ya remember exactly what ya da said?” Jack asked. Annabelle nodded and tried to force a smile. Because dad had always say that love was important, happy and a thing of beauty worth celebrating. So if it was all of those things, shouldn’t Jack know?

Then Jack continued, “why don’ ya just tell me tha’?”

Annabelle motioned with her hand that she wanted to whisper it to him, so he leaned in and she said, “Daddy said to Aunt Jane, “What if I told you that I like Jack?””

“I would tell you not to worry Annabelle,” Jack replied, a firm hand on her shoulder, “Because whatever your father said or whatever you heard, he still loves you, your brothers still love you, and I still love you.”

 

**\--8--**

Jack felt his innards do a flip as he watched Annabelle slowly walk away. His insides felt cold and almost become prickly within his ribcage. It absolutely terrified him. It was internal monologue that Jack faced every time he bound his chest flat and cleared his throat before speaking down an octave. Doing was was societally right versus what felt right. And that was what Jack couldn’t make sense of. He knew he was a boy. Always had. But if he was a boy stuck in the wrong boy, why did he still like other boys? If he was truly a boy, why didn’t he like girls? Why couldn’t he like Jane?

He continued his short journey back to his apartment to catch a quick nap before night fall and briefly contemplated turning down an alley that would lead him to the Banks’ house. Even though he knew Michael wouldn’t be home. His rational mind told him not to disturb the Banks’; they were in a completely different part of society than he was. But he wanted – no needed – comfort. Comfort that an empty apartment couldn’t provide. Comfort that not even his leerie friends could provide. He wanted a hug and he wanted love. _Is that what this is?_


	4. Chapters 9-12

**\--9--**

John ran down the steps of the school and while he was heading towards where he usually waited for Georgie and Annabelle, he saw Jack leaning against a lamp pole with his bike.

“Jack!” John shouted as he ran towards their leerie friend. Colliding into him with the force of eight year old, Jack took a big step back before leaning down and giving him a hug.  John, while still young, could see Jack wince and knew that that meant he was in pain.

“Are you hurt Jack?” John asked, un-shouldering his backpack which was feeling heavier and heavier by the minute.

He watched as Jack smiled and shook his head no before saying, “nah John, m’kay.”

“Okay,” John said. He wasn’t convinced but that would have to wait. “Are you gonna bring us home?”

“Yup,” Jack replied, ruffling John’s brown hair, “we just gotta wait for the rest of em’.”

“Did Annabelle tell you what dad said last night?” John asked after climbing up on Gertie, Jack’s bike.

Jack huffed a little out snort before saying, “she did. Youse had this ‘hole conversation planned out good. Didn’tcha?”

“We heard dad and Aunt Jane talking in the sitting room last night. We weren’t supposed to hear but we did,” John said, continuing to wring his cap in his hands. Why was this so scary. Mom had been gone for a while now. And he did want his dad to be happy again. But somehow this felt like betrayal of some kind.

“John, s’okay, yah?” Jack said, “nuffin’s gonna happen to me or ya da, I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but still,” John begun to say before he saw Georgie running towards them. Georgie had been to interested in setting up the board game and missed the conversation. They only told him that Aunt Jane didn’t like Jack anymore. “He only heard what we told him.”

 

**\--10--**

“Jack!” the second of the Banks’ children shrieked while running in his direction. Thankfully, Georgie did not crash into him, nor expect a hug. The youngest Banks’ child was content with a pat on the head – which Jack was sure his ribs appreciated.

He got back to his apartment after dropping the kids off in the morning and decided to have a nap, but through an error in judgement, he fell asleep with his chest still bound. See, Jack did realize that it was a bad thing to keep the bindings on for too long – it hurt his rib cage really bad – it was just that, some days, he couldn’t stand taking them off.

“Hiya Georgie,” Jack said, taking the blond boy’s school bag and throwing it onto the rack that usually carried his ladder – when it wasn’t across the back of Gertie and being used as extra seating. “How was school tiday?”

“I learned some maths!” Georgie reported, accompanied with some excited jumping up and down.

“What’s five times five?” John asked, his hands on his hips, just like Jack had seen Michael do. Goodness, these kids were so much like him.

“I don’t know,” Georgie said, his face falling momentarily.

“Don’tchu worry Georgie, I dunno either,” Jack said. He could probably figure out the answer if he tried, but Jack hadn’t gone to school for very long before his parents passed away and he started training with Bert. Only a little older than John was, he thought, was when he left school.

“Why don’ you tell us the answer?” Jack offered John.

“Twenty five!” John reported with glee, “because you have five fives and that is twenty five.”

“Youse smart,” Jack said, watching as Georgie proceeded to count to five, five times on his hands. Of course Georgie was fact checking his brother.

Jack smiled as he watched the two brothers interacting. What he would give to get to have a kid. But the only way around it was to become pregnant himself – and it would have to be a very cold day in hell before he would let that happen. There were so many things about that thought that he disliked. All the girl things in his pants that would have to be dealt with, then the growing belly that only women had, then the feeding of the child with the...things on his chest. Nope nope and nope. Not happening. He always wondered if an orphanage would let him, a single man of a low social class, adopt a child.

But until then, hanging out with the Banks’ kids were as much as he could possibly dare to ask for.

 

**\--11--**

Annabelle dragged her feet while walking through the front doors of the school. All day her brain had been an endless maze of questions that she couldn’t ask anyone because then her dad and Jack would get taken away. But she wanted to know.

She realized that her brothers were probably waiting by the lamp pole that they all waited for each other at after school everyday, but she couldn’t will her feet to speed up. Because the sooner they started walking home meant the sooner they would get home and they’d have to pretend that dad liked girls and Aunt Jane still liked Jack.

What worried her the most was the wondering if their dad ever really loved their mother. If he loved boys, did he love their mother. Was this an attempt to forget about her? They weren’t allowed to forget her. _Gone but not forgotten is the perfect phrase_ , was what Mary Poppins had said.

But when the teachers cleared the halls, Annabelle finally left the school and headed towards the lamp pole. Then she saw him. Jack was standing at the lamp pole talking with John and Georgie. She wasn’t sure if that made her feel happy or not.

“Hiya Annabelle,” Jack said as she approached and while she knew it was the right thing to do, she didn’t say hi back.

“Alright you three, hop on,” Jack continued, though she was sure he noticed her unusual silence.

“Jack?” Annabelle asked once they were a few minutes into their ride, “can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, go ahead,” the leerie replied, not turning around but nodding his head. Once again, she felt her stomach doing cartwheels in her belly, but she asked, “do you have a mom and dad?”

 

**\--12--**

“I did,” Jack replied, “they both died when I was a little older than you two.” His father had left when both he and his mother fell ill. He always assumed he had died, because why else wouldn’t he have come back for him? He remembered the night his mother died of the fever. Jack was sick as well and he layed in his mother’s arms. She died while he was asleep. When he woke up, she was gone and his fever had broken. He was only twelve. Jack found anything of value in the house, sold it, and left. Only a few weeks later, while wandering the streets around dusk, he met Bert and the rest is history. Well, that and selling all his girl clothes, buying boy ones and leaving the name “Alexandria” behind with the house and his life.

“Oh,” he heard Annabelle say from behind him.

“Any reason ya’ askin’?” Jack queried, thinking he understood her train of thought.

“Did dad ever like our mom?” Annabelle asked, her voice laced with worry. Jack figured it was a good time to stop their ride and have a talk with the kids. They neared the park on Cherry Tree and he told them to hop off and sit on the bench they were near. John and Georgie looked less than surprised, and yet Annabelle looked terribly pale. Just like Jane always did. Always got very pale when she was nervous.

“You three listen here,” Jack said, kneeling in front of the three of them on the ground, “yer mother loved ya dearly, that I can assure you. I guarantee she loved yer father and he loved ‘er back. Its be over a year now, ya? Yer father ain’t replacing ya and I promise I have no intention on replacing ‘er, if it happens.”

“Daddy won’t get taken away from us, will he Jack?” Georgie said, tears springing to his eyes. Jack could see Georgie’s bottom lip start twitching and figured that he was about three seconds away from bursting out into true tears.

“Georgie,” Jack said, leaning forwards and placing a hand on the young blond boys’ knee, “I canna promise ya anything. But I can promise I will do anything in my power to keep your father safe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please bind carefully only with:  
> -binders made specially for binding  
> and never with:  
> -ace bandages  
> -tensor bandages  
> -duct tape  
> -KT tape  
> -fabric  
> -too-small sports bras (I learned my lesson on this one the hard way)  
> and never for:  
> -more than 8 hours without a break  
> -more than five days in a row without a day of break
> 
> Thank you for attending my TED Talk and please bind safely


	5. Chapters 13-17

**\--13--**

“Can I go home Jack?” John asked. He didn’t want to talk to Jack anymore, he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now and he wanted to talk to his mom. None of this made any sense anymore and he didn’t want Jack to see him cry.

“Ya can leave anytime ya would like,” Jack said, so John stood up off the bench and ran towards home. He knew where to go, they played in the park often enough for John’s feet to carry him home. Throwing open the door to the house he had known since birth, John ignored his father in the sitting room, Ellen in the kitchen and ran upstairs to the nursery. He tore off his cap and jacket, threw them on the floor at the end of his bed and flopped face first onto the duvet.

“Mom,” he said, his face still muffled in his blanket, “why did you go?” He missed her so much. And if she hadn’t left, then none of this would be happening. Crying until his blanket was soaked with tears, John startled when he felt a hand on his back.

“John, what happened?” a voice asked. His father asked. _Of course his father wanted to talk to him. Why wouldn’t he?_  John rolled over onto his back and braced for a barrage of questions. _Where are your siblings? Where is your bag? Why are you home so late?_

“Are you hurt John?” his father asked as John closed his eyes and rubbed them with his hands.

“I’m fine dad. Are Annabelle and Georgie home yet?” John asked. He felt bad about leaving them in the park. But they were with Jack, so nothing bad was going to happen.

“They just got home kiddo, they were worried about you. Apparently you ran off on the way home,” dad said, smoothing John’s hair back from his forehead where it had been mashed in place with the blanket.

“I’m sorry dad. Jack picked us up from school and he and Annabelle got to talking. And it made me sad so I left them.”

 

**\--14--**

Michael was signing forms which he had brought home from work in the living room when he heard the front door open and then slam shut. The sound of the stomping up the stairs alerted him that only one of his children was actually home. There were so many questions that Michael wanted answered and yet he wanted to know what was happening. He climbed the stairs in only his socked feet, trying to be as silent as possible. Then he heard John’s voice mutter into his pillow, “Mom, why did you go?”

Michael breathed a quick sigh as he heard those words be uttered. He missed his wife, sure, and of course his children missed her too. But he would be lying if he said he understood what his children were feeling.

Then he heard the front door open once again, so he turned around and scampered down the stairs to greet his other two children. But there were three people standing in the entryway. Georgie, Annabelle and Jack. _Why Jack?_ Out of all the people he wanted to try to talk to, _why him?_

“Children, Jack,” Michael greeted them, unconsciously smoothing the front of his vest down.

“Is John home?” Jack asked, his cockney accent a refreshing sound after working at the bank all day.

“Yeah, he’s in the nursery. What happened?”

“We were talking and he got upset,” Georgie said, his cap now in his hands as he stared at his feet.

“Why don’t you go through and ask Ellen for a biscuit or two before dinner,” Michael said before turning to go back upstairs to talk to John.

 

**\--15--**

Ellen handed Annabelle and Georgie a biscuit before handing Jack a piece of hard loaf. That kid was too thin, that she knew for sure. She wasn’t sure exactly how old the Banks’ newest friend was, but he need a few extra bites of food and he surely looked years older than he probably was. So, instead of a light and fluffy cookie, he got hard loaf. It wouldn’t keep his stomach full until this time tomorrow, but if it was the only thing he was to eat tonight, all the better.

“Eat up,” she said, more to Jack than to the children. Ellen was glad that Jack had come around when he did. Jane and Michael needed company their own age and Jack was a very lovely young man. Even if he was only a leerie. But then again, she was just a cook, so who was she to judge?

“‘Fanks Ellen,” Jack said before eating the hard loaf like a starving man.

“Any homework tonight?” Ellen asked, turning to the two children at the table. She wasn’t sure where John was or why he didn’t want a cookie, but it seemed that Michael was talking with his eldest son, so she figured it was her job to keep the other two occupied for as long as she could.

“Some maths,” Georgie said, pushing the crumbs on his plate around with his finger. It seemed like he was drawing something, but whatever it was wasn’t coming through enough for her to actually see it.

“I have to write a paragraph about what one of our parents does for work,” Annabelle replied, not meeting Ellen’s eyes and staring at her half-eaten cookie.

“Well that sounds fascinating, doesn’t it?” she asked, trying to get Annabelle talking. The poor thing looked like she had had a bad day at school.

 

**\--16--**

By the time Michael had gotten John calmed down and down to the kitchen, Jack had left and four cookies were missing from the jar in the kitchen. Georgie and Annabelle were sitting in the kitchen with Ellen. Georgie was standing on the step-stool stirring the pot on the stove and Annabelle was drawing at the table. At least one of his kids had inherited his art skills.

“Jack left?” Michael asked as Ellen turned around.

“Sent him home with some pound cake and hard loaf,” Ellen replied, taking some cabbage out of the sink, where it had likely been getting washed. “Will Jane be coming for dinner?”

“She should be,” Michael said, scratching the back of his neck. He had wanted to catch Jack before he left. Maybe...talk to him...about...the thing. He guessed fate didn’t want him to do that. Maybe it was just better left alone for now.

 

The children were in bed, hopefully asleep, as Michael and Jane sat in the sitting room, each nursing a cup of tea they really had no plans on drinking. Ellen had retired to the basement – all of which belonged to her – before Michael said, “what do you want to do about this...Jack thing?”

“I have no idea Michael,” Jane said, placing her cup of tea on its saucer on the table beside her. If they lived in some weird alternate universe, Michael figured he would just tell Jack, like as a side note kinda thing. Not expecting anything from it, and if Jack actually did feel the same way towards him, he would let Jack do the talking. But of course, this world was not that one. And there was no way in hell he would do anything that could potentially get him taken away from his kids.

“Wanna try to write him a letter?” Michael asked, directing it towards Jane.

“I don’t want him to think it was anything he did. Because this is my issue, not his. And writing a letter is too many extra degrees of separation,” Jane explained.

“Yeah, okay,” Michael said, seeing where his sister was coming from. It did make sense, he guessed. Well, he wasn’t the one that had no ability to feel anything sexual or romantic about a person, so whatever worked best for Jane, he would go with.

 

**\--17--**

When Jack left the Banks’ house, he pedalled down the street lighting the lights. It was almost dusk and as he hummed one of the songs Bert had taught him, the chaos of his day fell away into the simplicity of one of his favorite tasks. He enjoyed being a leerie. Sure, it didn’t pay well nor was it glamourous, but he got to bring light into the lives of the people of London. Was there a better job?

Somedays, Jack really missed Bert. That man was the father he never really got to have growing up and taught him almost everything he knew.

Jack had dropped out of school when he was nine, just a year older than Annabelle and John were now, which left him very few job opportunities after his mother died three years later. Then, one evening, near dusk as Jack was getting ready for yet another night of sleeping on the street, he watched as a rather tall man biked up to a nearby lamp post and set it alight. Until that moment, he never wondered or knew how the lamps were lit every night. Yet, as he lay awake, back aching against the concrete wall he sat against, he was enchanted by the glow of the light. It was something so simple and yet under the foggy cover of the night, it almost looked like the moon. The next morning, when the same man came around to turn the lamp off, Jack stood, shedding his blanket and ran up to the man. He asked, rather awkwardly, where he could get a job as a lamplighter. He was hired a few days later with the London City Services and placed under the apprenticeship of Bert, the lamplighter he had met just days before. Bert worked as a lamplighter at the beginning and end of the days, while performing his duties as a chimney sweep during the day.

For almost four years, Jack followed Bert around, getting paid half the wage of the rest of them – he was only an apprentice. Then Bert left to travel the world and Jack took over his lamplighting routes. One of which included Cherry Tree Lane.


	6. Chapters 18-23

**\--18--**

They didn’t see Jack again until the weekend. Michael had just stepped outside to collect the mail when he saw the young lamplighter biking past, turning off the last light of his route. He looked tired, Michael noticed, the dark bags under his eyes more defined and he was wearing what looked like an extra coat. _It isn’t that cold outside_ , Michael thought.

“I’ll be back!” Michael yelled into the house as he cased Jack down the street. It was hard to run in slippers and a housecoat, but he managed to catch up to Jack as the younger man was getting back on his bike.

“Jack,” he said, watching as the man in question slowly turned around to face Michael, his cap tugged down low on his brow. Usually, when he called his name, Jack would turn around fast, facing the caller with a massive grin on his face. There was no smile this morning, there was barely even recognition.

“Geez Jack, you look terrible,” Michael said, reaching out to steady the bike as he watched Jack almost tip himself over. Even though he didn’t go anywhere near touching Jack, Jack still flinched away. It felt like a kick to Michael’s gut, but he didn’t let go of the bike.

“Why don’t you come have some breakfast with us. I’m sure the kids would love to see you,” Michael suggested. Jack shrugged in response, and poorly hid the wince that crossed his face. The poor guy was even in pain. There was no way he would let him go without making sure he wouldn’t pass out in the street somewhere.

 

**\--19--**

Jane was getting a new pot of tea ready in the kitchen when she heard the front door re-open.

“Michael?” she called and stuck her head out of the swinging doors. And there stood Michael, in his housecoat, pyjamas and slippers with Jack standing beside him. Jack was looking at the floor, his cap so low on his head that Jane couldn’t see any of his face. He was wearing two coats and a sweater and had his grey gloves covering his hands and all the skin all the way up his arms.

“Oh Jack,” Jane said, rushing forwards to Jack, taking the arm that was not next to Michael. As he flinched and tried to move away, Jane dropped her hands.

“Why don’t you come sit down?” Michael asked, seeing how he was swaying on his feet.

“‘Kay,” Jack said finally. It was the first word either of them had heard him say that day and as hoarse, cracked and quiet as it was, it was practically music to her ears. She watched as Michael led Jack into the sitting room before rushing back into the kitchen to grab the First Aid kit from under the sink.

“Did Michael hurt himself again?” Ellen asked, not even looking away from the stove. Sure, Michael was clumsy and occasionally reckless, but this time, it wasn’t him.

“Its Jack,” she said, leaning closer to Ellen to whisper it into her ear. She didn’t want her niece and nephews to hear. Jack seemed to be in a pretty bad place, and the last thing she wanted was for them to see him in that state.

“Poor thing,” Ellen said, making the tsk sound with her teeth as she turned to the kids and asked if they wanted a mug of tea.

 

**\--20--**

“Are you cold?” Jack heard Michael ask.

_Why would he think that? It wasn’t the winter was it? Oh yeah, the extra coat._

“Nah,” he whispered, his throat feeling like he had eaten pea gravel.

_How did he end up in Michael's house? He was just finishing up his route. Mmmm, Michaels hand feels warm._

“Why don’t you take some of these layers off, relax a little,” he heard Michael suggest.

_Yeah, that seems like a nice idea. It's getting warm under here. Wait, no, you can’t do that. Then he’ll see everything underneath. Shake your head no, you’re not taking these layers off. Bad plan, bad plan, that hurts your neck. Don’t make a face, you can’t let them know that that hurt. Oops, that was a wince, wasn’t it. Damn it Jack, get a grip. Just don’t move, that’ll make it better._

_Wait...why did Michael gasp? What did he see? My hat. It fell on the floor when I shook my head. No no no no no, this is bad. Don’t let them him get near, he might hurt your head._

“Jesus Christ Jack,” he heard a higher voice say.

_Jane. Was she here before? Its the weekend, isn’t it? No wonder she was over. Just move your hand and cover it with your hand. No one will see._

“Don’t touch it Jack,” Michael said, grabbing his arm.

_NO! Let go of me. Get off, get off, get off. You gotta get out of here, you gotta move. No, you trust Michael and Jane, they won’t hurt you. But they’ll find out if you stay, you gotta leave. You gotta go home and rest. You gotta stand up and lea–..._

 

**\--21--**

Michael should have known not to reach out and grab at Jack, considering how he had reacted on the street, but the cut on his forehead looked deep and there was no way he was going to let him touch it. The last thing they needed was for it to get infected anymore than it could have already been.

After Jack snatched his arm away, his breathing skyrocketed and he started to try to get up from the chair they had sat him in. The second he got his feet under him, Jack passed out. Thankfully he wasn’t that heavy, so Michael grabbed him around the waist before he fell and hit his head on something else.

“Come on,” Jane said, looping his arm over her shoulder to support Jack, “let get him to the guest bedroom.”

“Good plan,” Michael said as they carefully moved him in that direction.

“You get his shirt off and I’ll go find some alcohol. We need to clean that cut,” Jane said, turning to leave while Michael thought _and any other cuts he may have_.

If Michael thought it was difficult to undress his children while they were mostly asleep, he would consider that a walk in the park compared to trying to get Jack’s jackets and shirts off now. He took the jackets off together, not bothering to separate them and threw them on the chair near the door. Next came un-tucking his red knit sweater, which also included undoing Jack’s belt. He kept his thoughts solely platonic as he tugged the belt free from its loops and maneuvered the sweater off Jack’s body.

It was hard to not feel pain as he saw Jack’s arms, shoulders and neck get revealed. It looked like he had endured a pretty good beating in the recent past. There were mottled bruises covering his arms, cuts up the side of his left arm from what looked like glass. But what hurt the most was what looked like bruising from someone trying to strangle him.

“Oh Jack, what happened to you?” he whispered.

 

**\--22--**

Her breath caught in her throat as Jane reentered the guest room. Jack was laying on his back on the bed, his clothes off except his pants and white undershirt. His arms, shoulders and neck were cut and bruised, there were fist shaped bruises around his wrists and his knuckles were split and bloodied.

Next, she heard Michael, his soft sobs shaking the air in the room as she saw his shoulders shake. Her little brother was hunched over top of Jack, not touching, but close enough to show how much he was hurt to see Jack like this.

“Let’s get him cleaned up,” Jane said, approaching Michael’s side and placed a bowl of alcohol on the table beside the bed. She dabbed a piece of gauze into the alcohol and used it to start whipping down his battered knuckles. At least it seemed like he had put up a fight.

“I’ll do his head,” Michael suggested weakly before taking the other cloth and gingerly moving the hair that had caught some of the blood out of the way. Jane made her way up his cut-up arm. When they had the wounds as sterile as possible, Jane got the bandages out of the first aid kit and put her training as a nurse to good use.

Once she had bound up his arm and forehead, she turned to Michael and said, “we need to get this shirt off. I need to make sure his chest is okay.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Do you want me to do it?” Michael asked. Jane shrugged and watched as Michael reached forward to pull the shirt up over Jack's head as she made sure his arm didn’t get bumped or moved too much.

“Oh man,” Jane said on a breath of air. She had wondered if he was injured under the shirt, and it looked like he had been. But, judging of the color and wear of the bandages around his chest, this looked like an older injury. She saw the safety pin on the side, under his right arm, so she undid it and begun to gingerly pull the bandages away. Once they were off, she closed her eyes and pressed the palms of her hands against her eyelids.

“Michael,” she said, calling attention back to Jack, from where Michael had his back to her, moving all his clothes into one place. With her hands still over her eyes, she said, “now what do we do?”

 

**\--23--**

“Michael,” he heard his sister call from her place near Jack. When he had taken off Jack’s undershirt, Michael found he couldn't breathe. Not because he could see Jack’s abdominal muscles – which were covered in fist shaped bruises – but because of the bandages around his ribcage. They looked old and worn, indicating he had likely been injured in the past. He waited until Jane reached for the safety pin holding them together that he chose to turn away. It hurt him to see Jack so hurt.

Busying himself in tidying and folding Jack’s clothes, Michael had his back to Jane when she called his name. He turned around and heard Jane say, “now what do we do?”

“What do you mean?” Michael said, taking a half step to the left, around where Jane’s body obscured Jack upper body.

“Oh,” Michael said when he saw what had made Jane call for him. Michael had no idea how to wrap his head around it. He had always assumed that Jack’s immaculately even and flat chest was a product of...nature. Not bandages and binding what was there.

“Yeah,” Jane said, turning to face him while pulling her hands down from her face.

“I mean, this shouldn’t change anything...right?” Michael said. He really had no idea what to think. Really. It just confused him. Because the entire month and a half he had known Jack, he had known _Jack_ , not this other person. Though, it was still Jack. Nothing had changed. Literally nothing was different. His insides were the same, his heart was the same, his humour was the same and his pain was the same. Nothing was different and yet, at the same time, everything was.

“Same person, as far as I’m concerned,” Jane said, “it's just not what either of us were expecting, I think.” Michael nodded, wiping away the big fat tear that was dripping down his cheek. _Why was Jane always so smart._

“Now what?” Michael asked, scratching the back of his head.

“We get these bruised patched up, get his undershirt back on and wait until he wakes up. Then we will continue on as we would have if we never saw him with his shirt off.”

 


	7. Chapters 24-26

**\--24--**

Jane had known she was different for a while. Basically since she had started trying to date back in high school, she found that anything like that had zero appeal to her. And she thought that she was unique, until she met Ryan Becker, one of her fellow organizers of the labour protests. Ryan confessed over a few too many glasses of hard liquor one night that he felt no sexual attraction towards anyone. Suddenly, Jane found someone just like her – not exactly the same, sure, but more similar than anyone else. It only took about a week before Ryan invited her to the Anderson Bar down on Dow Street. And for one night a month, Anderson, the owner of the bar, hosted a night for people just like them. People who liked the same gender, people who liked any gender, people who didn’t like anyone, people who knew they were the opposite gender or no gender.

To be entirely honest, Jane had wondered about Jack since they had met. He wasn’t short, but he was shorter than most men his age. His voice wasn’t high, but it wasn’t low. He had very little facial hair and never seemed to have stubble – just smudges of lamp oil that seemed to draw attention away from the lack of facial hair.

Once they put salve on all his bruises and pulled the white undershirt back on – none of the bandages, they would only hurt him more – Jane took Michael’s hand and practically dragged him out of the guest room.

“Let's get a cup of tea – then I’ll let you go sit with him like a battlefield wife,” Jane said, pushing him through the doors to the kitchen.

 

**\--25--**

The alleyway was dark – it was one he never liked going down at the end of his route in the evening – it had no lamps and was pitch dark. There were numerous bar exits into the alley and drunks were known to frequent the shadows. He hugged the wall on the other side of the corridor and kept his eyes on the road in front of him as he pedalled towards his apartment.

Someone kicked a bottle into the road which he swerved to avoid, causing his bike to slip on the greasy, damp cobblestones and throw him to the ground. The impact jostled his already bruised ribs and he cried out in pain. He could feel stabbing pain in his left arm, cutting through the fabric of his coat. Glass. He had landed on a crushed bottle.

Then there were some people standing above him. Standing around, talking, insulting him, encouraging him. Encouraging him to stand up and fight them. _Like a man_.

Bracing himself, he knew there was no way he could fight that many people. He wasn’t fast either. Sure, he was good with his feet – he could dance pretty decent – but he wasn’t quick enough to get away from these guys.

But before he could choose, a choice was made for him. Someone grabbed his wrist and dragged him to his feet, then his back was slammed against a brick wall. His head knocked against the wall and his vision blurred against the pain. Then a fist slammed into his already sore ribs and his stomach, causing him to cry out again. The people started shouting and then a hand grabbed his neck. He tried to struggle out of the grasp, but one against three or four were terrible odds and his vision started getting dark around the edges. Then something sharp connected with his head and that was the last thing he could remember before he woke up to the chiming of three bells of Big Ben.

 

**\--26--**

Michael managed to get a cup of tea into his stomach before going to check on his kids. They were upstairs, Annabelle playing with her dolls while John and Georgie appeared to be building a castle with their wooden building blocks.

“Daddy!” Georgie said, hopping to his feet, “where did you go?”

“I just went outside to talk to Jack,” Michael said. He wasn’t exactly lying. When he saw Annabelle look away quickly, he wondered what that was about. She had always liked Jack.

“Is Mr. Jack gonna come for supper?” Georgie asked, letting go of his stuffed giraffe – the falling toy narrowly missing the wooden castle.

“Probably not for a little while yet,” Michael replied, reaching out to ruffle his youngest’s hair, “he is sick right now, so he is resting.”

“Oh,” John said, looking up from his castle, “will he be okay?”

“I’m sure he will,” Michael said, and proceeded to wonder if he had said that to reassure himself more than his kids. He turned to walk back down the stairs and figured that maybe Jane was right. He should go sit with Jack like a battlefield wife. It would probably make him feel better too.

“Hey Jack,” Michael said, sitting down on the corner of the bed, looking at the young man in question. Now that they had cleaned him up, he looked a bit better, the blood not staining his forehead and the lamp oil not caking his chin.

“Who did this to you?” he asked, looking at the closed eyes of Jack. They were ringed in black and purple – obviously from a continuous lack of sleep and the creases in his brow and cheeks were faded into his skin. He easily looked ten years younger than Michael had initially thought he was. Which made him wonder how old Jack was.

“I...um...I don’t know how to say this,” Michael said, stuttering over his words. Jack was asleep, this should be easier than it was. “Jane took off the...bandages...around your chest. It doesn’t make me mad.” _How on earth was he going to be able to tell Jack that when he was awake if he couldn’t do it when the man was asleep?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a Londoner, nor do I claim Anderson's Bar exists or Dow Street exists


	8. Chapters 27 & 28

**\--27--**

Annabelle was searching through the house for her brothers. They had decided to play hide and seek after dad had gone downstairs, so after a few rounds, it was her turn to seek for John and Georgie.

She knew they weren’t supposed to go into the guest bedroom on the ground floor. In theory, she figured that neither John nor Georgie would break their father’s long standing rule to never go in. But, at the same time, Georgie had a habit of going places he wasn’t supposed to and the door was closed but not latched, unlike usual. The door was always latched. So one of the two of them were in there, even though none of them were supposed to be.

Walking into the darkened room, Annabelle waited a second to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light and listened to see if she could hear anything. Raspy breathing was coming through the quiet with ease. One of them was in here.

“Georgie? John?” she whispered teasingly, trying to get one of them to make a noise other than the obvious breathing. Once she could see better in the dark, there was definitely a lump in the bed, yet another rule one of them had broken. You only went into a bed that was yours – that rule was one mommy had made before she left. She didn’t want them getting sick like she had.

Slowly walking next to the bed, ready to pull back the covers to reveal which brother was breaking all the rules, she was suddenly very confused. This lump was too big to be only one of them, and there was no way both brothers would hide in the same spot. Moving back towards the door, she reached for the light switch and flicked it on.

 

**\--28--**

“Daddy!” he heard Annabelle yell from the bottom floor. She sounded worried so he stood from where he was painting at his desk and ran down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen.

“What do you need honey?” he asked as he ran down the final flight of stairs.

“Why is Jack in the guest room?” she asked, her hands on her hips, head cocked and mouth pursed in a way that made her look uniquely like her mother.

“Oh honey,” he said, closing his eyes and pressing his palms against them. Now he really wished Jane hadn’t gone home. He could really use her help right about now. The door to Jack’s room – no, the guest room – was open and the light was on and the door was wide open.

“Where are your brothers?” Michael asked, stepping forward to turn off the light in the room and closing the door. He didn’t want it to wake Jack sooner than necessary.

“We were playing hide and seek daddy, I’m sorry,” Annabelle said, looking at her feet, clad in checkered socks, “I know we’re not supposed to go in there, but the door was opened a little, so I thought Georgie or John were hiding in there.”

“Its okay darling, I’m not mad,” Michael said before cupping his hands around his mouth and calling, “come out come out wherever you are!” It only took a few seconds before he could hear the stomping of tiny feet parading down the stairs and skidding to a stop near Michael.

“We’re gonna have a chat in the kitchen with Ellen, yeah?” Michael said, ushering his three children into the kitchen, where Ellen was sitting at a stool reading the daily paper.

“Any cookies ‘round here?” Michael asked, motioning for his kids to sit at the chairs. Ellen stood with a smile before going to the cupboard and pulling out a jar.

“Oatmeal raisin,” she replied, offering the jar around to the Banks.’

“Come sit with us Ellen,” Michael said before taking a nibble off the corner of his cookie. Once their cook had sat down, Michael continued, “so, as Annabelle accidentally discovered, Jack will be staying with us for a little. He is sick, and can’t be on his own right now. So, for a little, he will be staying here. Same rules apply, however,” he said, turning to his kids, “don’t bother him if he’s in his room. Jack needs rest.”

 


	9. Chapters 29-32

**\--29--**

Everything hurt. It hurt more now than it did earlier that morning. Jack was then hit with confusion as he suddenly realized he had no idea where he was. Without opening his eyes or trying to move, Jack gathered all the information of his surroundings as possible. He was in a bed, but it wasn’t his. No – this one was much more comfortable. And the smell – it was familiar but he couldn’t quite place it.

_I’m not at home, yet I’m in a bed. I think I know this place. But where is it?_

Then the memory of the morning returned. He had been launched back into reality by the chiming of three bells on Big Ben, had gotten up, found his stuff and staggered home. He hadn’t trusted his hurting head to help him balance a bike, so he walked next to Gertie, using the bike as balance. Each step he took hurt his arms, his neck, his ribs, everything.

When he got home, he had almost just enough time to change his jacket, put another on overtop and head back out to get the lamps turned off again. By the time he had gotten around to all of his lights, Jack could barely see the street around him. Nothing made sense and all the motions he had made were purely muscle memory. His left arm was in immense pain, so he tucked it into his pocket, trying not to move it.

Finally, when he finished his route on Cherry Tree Lane, he was just ready to head home. He heard a slightly louder noise behind him and slowly turned to see Michael – in his house coat. Keeping his head down would prevent Michael from seeing the cut on his forehead and that was just what he had done. There then seemed to be a massive gap in his memory, because that was the last thing he could recall.

Jack tried to move his arms, the right one coming above the blankets as easily at he thought would be normal. Sure it hurt, but that was because he was jostling his ribs. But his left arm wouldn’t budge properly. _What on earth? Why wouldn’t his elbow move?_

He wanted to sit up to investigate what was going on, but when he tried to brace himself using his right arm, he noticed something was very wrong. Not only could he not push himself up because it was too painful – but something was very wrong with his chest. Very _very very wrong_. Something so wrong it made his brain start running.

_Someone knows, someone saw. Who knows? This is bad, this is bad. I don’t even know where I am. Who took these bandages off? This can’t be. It's not possible. No no no nonononono._

 

**\--30--**

Michael was sitting in the living room, nursing a cup of tea after getting his kids to sleep when he heard soft crying. He put his cup of tea down on the stool before running up the stairs to the nursery. His heart was beating hard as he came to a stop at the top of the stairs. The crying had stopped and all his children were sound asleep.

 _Jack_.

Running back down the stairs, Michael turned the corner fast and knocked on the guest room door. After the two soft knocks and no sound other than crying was returned, he twisted the handle of the door open and walked inside. On his side, which could not have been good for his injuries, Jack was curled into a ball under the covers, his body shaking.

“Jack?” Michael said into the silence. Not getting any response, he walked towards the side of the bed and said, “I’m gonna come sit down now Jack, okay?”

Still not getting a response, Michael took a deep breath and said, “I’m gonna sit here for a little, okay?” It took Jack a few more minutes for the shaking sobs to subside, but he finally took his head out of where he had hidden it in the pillow.

“Michael?” Jack whispered, his voice rough and croaky.

“Yeah, I’m here Jack,” he replied, reaching out and placing a comforting hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“Am I at your house?” Jack asked, pulling the covers up to his chin. Probably trying to cover his chest, Michael figured. But Michael let him – no need to tip off his hand nor spook the poor lamplighter.

“Yeah, you are,” Michael confirmed, “You passed out in the sitting room this morning.”

“Its nighttime,” Jack said, starting to squirm out of the sheets, “I need to go.”

 

**\--31--**

Jack barely heard the knocking on the door, but he did notice the beam of light that shone into the room. _Someone is in here_. He tried to stop crying – no one could know he was upset – but the harder he tried to stop, the more it seemed to work him up.

Then he heard someone ask, “Jack?” _The voice was familiar, but whose was it? Where was he? I need to get out of here, get my clothes on, go home_.

“I’m gonna come sit down now Jack, okay?” the voice said. _Michael? Is that Michaels voice?_ He wasn’t sure, but if it was it did have a slightly calming effect. He tried to stop crying again, and this time, with the slight knowledge that he was at least marginally safe, the shaking sobs started to slow, being replaced with tears streaking down his cheeks.

_Michael knows. Jane probably knows, they tell each other everything. They probably won’t want me around the kids anymore. I’m a freak. A freak. No one wants to be around me. No one would if they knew._

“I’m gonna sit here for a little, okay?” Michael asked. _Say no. You don’t want anyone around right now. No one is allowed to see. No one can know. Say no_. But nothing came out of his mouth – so Michael didn’t leave.

Eventually, when he was able to make noise other than just crying, Jack asked, “Michael?” Thankfully his head was stuffed from crying, lowering his voice enough to not sound like it does.

“Yeah, I’m here Jack,” Michael replied. _So it is Michael. I guess I’m at his house._ Then he felt a warm hand touching his shoulder. He wanted to squirm away and yet lean into the touch. It did feel nice.

“Am I at your house?” Jack asked, using his right arm to pull the covers up higher. The tent it made off his shoulder covered his chest better. _Hahaha, no one can see me now._

“Yeah, you are,” Michael replied, giving his shoulder a little squeeze, “You passed out in the sitting room this morning.”

“Its nighttime,” Jack said, realizing he missed his nighttime route, “I need to go.” _I can’t get fired now. All the streets will be dark and my route won’t be covered. This is bad, I have to get out there._

“Jack, stop moving, you’re hurt,” Michael said, pushing harder on his uninjured shoulder and preventing him from getting out of bed. Jack flopped backwards onto the bed, laying on his back – which hurt less. He wanted to remember that for later.

Looking at the roof, he saw a light flicker on and shine through the window of the room he was laying in. It was the same shade as the moon – the same shade of the lights he lit.

 

**\--32--**  

She heard his panicked thoughts and snapped her fingers, lighting the lamps from the North Thames all the way to Cherry Tree Lane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who? :)


	10. Chapter 33

**\--33--**

_My Darling Cate,_

_I’m sorry I haven’t written yet this week but there's something I’ve been meaning to say. I don’t want you to be mad, because for the entire ten years we were married I loved you everyday. I still love you, my dearest, but I think I’ve found someone._

_When you left us, you told me to find someone who loves me just like you always did. I found someone – I don’t know if they love me back, it's hard to tell. But I want to try to bring them into my life. Jane knows – I told her a few days ago – but I still have to tell the kids. I’m really not sure how to do that. I don’t want them to think I’m replacing you. Because I’m not. I still love you with every bone in my body._

_I have no idea how to say this Cate, but do you remember the lamplighter I wrote about the last two weeks? His name is Jack, but you already know that. I don’t know his last name, if I did I would tell you. But I think I love him. Like how I love you. I have no idea what that means – but hopefully one of these days I’ll tell him._

_I promise to be careful. The last thing any of us need is for me to not be able to take care them. I promise Cate._

_I love to the the moon and back,_

_~Your Dearest Michael_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has started back up again, so all these updates have been done on my phone on the school bus. I blame any and all errors on the bumpy roads
> 
> I couldn't see any other story to lump this one with, so I left it alone


	11. Chapters 34 & 35

**\--34--**

Jack knew that he had fallen asleep again – the panic finally flowing out of his bones being replaced with exhaustion. Once again, he was unsure how long he had slept but when he woke up again, there were the colors of a London nightfall filtering through the window.

Sitting up gently he used his right arm to push himself to an upright position. Tucking his legs up underneath him to balance better, Jack looked down at his left arm. It was bandaged and, though he wasn’t sure, it looked like some areas had bled through.

Jack ran his right hand over his face, carefully ignoring the bandage on his forehead before deciding that he was thirsty. Carefully testing his balance against the edge of the bed, Jack made his way over to the chair in the corner where he could see his red sweater and jacket laying. Digging through the pile, he found his scarf, the old grey plaid thing he wore almost all the time, and tied it around his shoulder. His arm was starting to ache from holding it up without support, so having it in a sling would help. Then, pulling his coat from the pile, he draped it over his shoulders and headed out of the bedroom.

He knew where he was as soon as he walked out of the room – the first floor guest room. Heading closer to the kitchen, Jack could hear the excited shrieks of the Banks’ kids and panic flooded over him. _Michael never told me if I was allowed to see his kids again. I wouldn’t want me to be around them if I was Michael._

Jack let out a heavy sigh and headed back to the guest room. He would pack up and leave. Never go back to see the Banks’ family again. _It would be better for everyone if I just disappeared. I should stop by the London Services Building on my way home. Get a route change._

 

**\--35--**

Michael heard a loud crash from where he stood in the kitchen, helping Ellen put jam on toast as fast as three hungry children could shovel it into their mouths. He was just buying time until the kids headed off to school and Jane came over to go talk to Jack.

But from the sounds of it, Jack was roaming around. Michael didn’t really want him moving around and potentially hurting himself more. Putting down his butter knife, Michael pushed through the door and walked down the hall to the guest room. He stood silently outside the door and just listened. The crashing noise didn’t seem to have impeded Jack from moving, so Michael reached out and rapped on the door. Suddenly all the noise stopped and the door opened.

“Oh,” Jack said, running his spread fingers through his hair, “G’mornin’ Michael.”

“Good morning Jack,” Michael said, reaching into the room and flicking the light switch on, “you okay? I heard a crash.”

“Knocked into the chair,” Jack replied, motioning towards the chair where they had placed all of his clothes.

“Jane’s coming over just before the kids head to school,” Michael replied, “do you want to come have some breakfast with us? I’m sure the kids would love to see you.”

“Are you sure?” Jack replied. It squeezed Michael’s chest tight as he heard Jack’s soft and slightly higher voice, shaking just slightly with the question. _So that’s what it actually sounds like. He sounds so terrified. He needs to know we want him here, that's probably what’s panicking him_.

“Of course Jack. I’m sure they’d love to see you. I’d love to have some toast with you before heading to work,” Michael said, reaching out to Jack’s right elbow and giving him some reassuring comfort. And if the smile Jack gave him was currency, Michael would have gotten rich in that moment. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed seeing that adorable smile until it wasn’t there anymore. Jack’s smile – when it was true – covered most of his face. It reached it eyes, his cheeks, everything transformed when Jack smiled. He was a different man when that beautiful smile lit up his face.

“Wanna come eat?” Michael said, dropping his hand from Jack’s elbow and stepping away. Jack adjusted his jacket on his shoulders and followed Michael out of the guest room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, updates may start to become infrequent. I do shift work and have recently been assigned to night shift so I can do school during the day. Why am telling you this? Because I won't have a ton of time/energy or brain power to put into writing. I'll aim for once every two days, but no promises there. 
> 
> I promise I won't forget about this though


	12. Chapters 36-42

**\--36--**

Jack felt a little warmth bloom in his chest when Michael said, “Wanna come eat?” He knew he should have been asking more questions about everything, but at the same time he just wanted to treasure the time that Michael was giving him to be around his family. Jack wasn’t sure how long the time would last or for how much longer he would be allowed to be around.

He followed Michael to the kitchen and was hit with the glorious smell of freshly cooked toast. The way his stomach growled was all the reminders he needed that he hadn’t eaten in over three days.

“Would you like some toast Jack?” Ellen asked, her statement causing the three Banks’ children at the table to turn around.

“Jack!” Georgie practically shrieked, jumping out of his chair and rushing around the table to give Jack a massive two arm hug around his waist.  Jack gave a short laugh, letting himself smile, and patted Georgie on the head with his right arm.

“What happened to you Jack?” John asked, obviously looking at his bandaged arm and cut forehead. From what Jack had seen in a mirror in the hallway into the kitchen, the cut on his forehead hadn’t bled through the bandage but the bruises on his cheeks and around his eye were still quite pronounced. He figured that it would actually be quite a shock to the kids – seeing him this way.

“Got ‘urt on my way ‘ome from work,” he muttered in response. It wasn’t exactly un-true. He heard Michael softly gasp from behind him, but when he turned around to face the noise, Michael had turned as well and was heading back out into the entry hall of the house.

“Have some breakfast,” Ellen said, placing a plate with three pieces of toast thoroughly coated in jam in front of an open chair. Jack took up the offer – unable to refuse the wonderfully smelling breakfast any longer. As he sat down with Annabelle on one side of him and an empty space on the other side, Jack noticed that Annabelle hadn’t yet said a word to him since he had come into the kitchen. He didn’t think about making a route change all breakfast.

 

**\--37--**

Annabelle wondered why her daddy had let Jack into their home. It all seemed so wrong. Daddy was supposed to love their mommy. Since mommy wasn’t gone, just lost for now, daddy wasn’t supposed to be replacing her. This house was theirs. Daddy, mommy, Georgie, John and herself. Not Jack. _So what that daddy loved Jack, daddy couldn’t replace mommy with anyone._ It made no sense.

Then daddy had suddenly left the kitchen and Annabelle wondered what he was doing. And how this didn’t seem to concern John and Georgie at all. The fact that Jack was staying in their house “for the time being” seemed to have no concerning affect on either of her brothers. _Were they actually all okay with all this?_

“Would you like some toast Jack?” Annabelle heard Ellen ask. She suddenly looked up from where she was pushing crumbs around her plate and spun around to look at the door to the kitchen.  Then Georgie was running towards Jack, calling his name and giving him a hug. It was only then that she actually looked at Jack. She hadn’t seen much the day that she accidentally found Jack, but now she could see bruising on his cheek, eye, and a bandage on his forehead. It looked really bad. And his left arm, on the same side as the bruises on his face, was bandaged and in a sling. _What had really happened to Jack? Daddy said he was sick. He doesn’t look sick._

“What happened to you Jack?” John asked.

“Got ‘urt on my way ‘ome from work,” Jack replied, his voice rough and slightly more slurred that usual. Then her daddy turn around, facing the outside wall of the kitchen and heading out towards the front door. Jack quickly turned to face where daddy had been standing but he had already moved.

“Have some breakfast,” Ellen said, placing a plate of toast on the table in front of the place setting right next to her. Annabelle pulled her arms off the table and crossed them in her lap. _Now he’s sitting at mommy’s spot at the table. Daddy is trying to replace her._

 

**\--38--**

Jane let herself into her childhood home and almost instantly Michael slipped through the kitchen door to greet her.

“Hey Jane,” Michael said, reaching forward to take the stack of protest signs out of her hands.

“Could use the help of some little hands putting those together,” Jane said through a laugh. John, Annabelle and Georgie were quite good at putting the signs together, except for the last time. She had let Georgie put the glue covered papers on the wooden sticks – and had ended up with two dozen signs that were upside down.

“Maybe once they’ve _finally_ finish breakfast,” Michael replied.

“Hows our patient doing?” Jane asked while she took off her coat and hung it on the hook near the door. She had been thinking about Jack since Michael had brought him into his house. Before she had arrived at 17 Cherry Tree Lane that morning, Jane had stopped by the hospital she worked at to pick up some penicillin and gauze wraps.

“Having some breakfast with the kids right now, actually,” Michael reported.

“Think he’ll let me get a dose of penicillin into him while he’s got food in his belly?” Jane asked, reaching into her satchel and retrieving one of the four small bottles she had in there.

“Can’t make any guarantees,” Michael replied, before adding, “he said, “I got hurt on my way home from work,” this morning when the kids asked.”

“I mean, that's not enough for anyone to work with,” Jane replied, “and besides, you know how the law works with people...like him.”

“Yeah,” Michael grunted, looking at his toes the entire walk back into the kitchen. Jane felt bad for her little brother. It was so unfortunate that he had to pine over Jack like this, to protect not only himself, but the kids and Jack as well.

 

**\--39--**

It seemed like the best day on the planet to Georgie. He got to have toast with yummy strawberry jam for breakfast with Jack and now Aunty Jane too. And his teacher had said they were starting an art project in school today and since it was a Monday, daddy would be home from work early and they would get to eat supper with him.

Jack looked like he had gotten into a fight – just like Preston and Dougal had done earlier in the school year. But Jack was smiling and laughing at the jokes John was telling – so he couldn’t have gotten hurt too badly.

Georgie really liked Jack. He had such a cool job – he got to trip the light fantastic! Georgie knew that was what he wanted to do when he was older. He didn’t want to be a banker like daddy, he was going to light lamps.

Jack could sing really well too. Even better than Mary Poppins. If he listened out his bedroom window at dusk, he could hear Jack whistling in the streets. It was a different song everyday – Georgie wondered if he made them all up in his head. And he was Mary Poppins friend so that made him so much better as well.

He thought it would be really cool if Jack came and lived with them. He liked the idea of Jack being...well...like a second daddy. Because as much as he missed mommy, he wanted daddy to be happy. And daddy said he liked Jack, but not in the friendly-only kind of way. That was good. Daddy needed to be happy some more.

 

**\--40--**

Ellen saw everything that happened in the Banks’ household. Nothing escaped her eyes, ears, or what she considered to be her sixth-sense. The ability to see love everywhere. Her sister said that she was a hopeless romantic, but she just thought that she was an optimist and liked when people were happy.

She knew that Georgie was super excited that Jack was at the table sharing breakfast. It was obvious that Georgie didn’t quite understand the extent of Jack’s injuries and continued speaking with Jack like it was just any other regular day.

John seemed pleased that Jack was feeling better. Judging on his free-reign of his use of jokes, he was not concerned in the least that Jack was in their house and spending time with them.

Annabelle was unusually quiet. Ellen realized that it had probably been unwise to sit Jack at Cate’s old spot at the table – all things considered. But at the same time, what if she had done it on purpose?

Of course she had done it on purpose. As a hint to Michael, perhaps. Creating some sign of fate that Michael always muttered about. At the same time, she was not sure that the message had gotten through to the boy she had practically raised. She had raised Jane and MIchael as if they were her own children and she had the treat to see them succeed in life.

She had been the one who had met Cate for the first time, the one who had met most of Jane’s fellow labour organizers, the one who had seen the birth of the children that she now considered her grandchildren. The Banks’ children were like her family. Aside from her sister, Ellen had no one. But she had the Banks’ family. And that was all the family she could ask for.

She had been cleaning the last of the dishes in the kitchen almost two weeks ago when she had heard Michael admit that he felt the same way towards Jack that he had for Cate. And as any good parent would do, she found herself creating situations guaranteed to have the two men crossing paths. The thing was – she understood how they couldn’t actually be “together.” She couldn’t understand why the love between two men or women should be any different than the love between any other two civilized people.

And if she was subtly pushing Michael and Jack together, well, no one had to know.

 

**\--41--**

Jack smiled as Ellen passed him another slice of toast. He hadn’t had bread this good in ages. It almost made him feel like a kid again. Not that he would ever want to go back in time and be a kid again, but it just gave him the light and carefree feeling of no worries. Amazing what toast with jam and butter could do.

He was cleaning some of the sticky jam off his fingers with his tongue as he heard the kitchen door open. Turning around to see who it was, he continued his cat-like behavior. It was Jane and Michael. Michael’s mouth hung open hilariously – like one of the dead fishes the vendors sold near the Thames.

“You’re looking a lot better Jack,” Jane said, “how do you feel?”

“M’kay, my arm’s kinda sore though,” he replied, taking his hand away from his mouth and testing the stickiness of the recently cleaned fingers while answering Jane. Not satisfied with the level of cleanliness yet, he proceeded to continue trying to lick the jam off his fingers.

“Michael, close your mouth,” Georgie said in his best Mary Poppins voice while trying not to giggle, “we are still not a cod-fish!”

It was a surprisingly well done imitation, and had he not had one dirty hand and one bandaged hand, Jack probably would have given him a little applause. But it did cause Michael to close his mouth as Jane burst out in giggles. Jack had no idea what had caused the little scene in front of him, but whatever had happened, it was quite entertaining.

 

**\--42--**

Michael couldn’t believe what he was seeing. With his own two eyes. Jack was sitting in his kitchen very methodically sticking his fingers in his mouth. Logically, Michael knew that it was because had likely gotten the super sticky strawberry jam on his fingers and thought that instead of just washing his hands, he would do...that. He had seen his own three children do the exact same thing many many times. However, now that it was Jack doing it, it suddenly became very... _interesting_.

Unfortunately, his mouth had dropped open and Georgie had decided that it would be absolutely hilarious to quote Mary Poppins. It did get him to close his mouth, but he could feel the heat associated with a blush creeping up his cheeks. He wasn’t sure what was worse. But Jack didn’t seem to notice anything inherently wrong or odd about the situation. Michael thanked whatever act of fate that managed to keep Jack rather innocent. _Unless he had been doing it on purpose_.

“I brought some more bandages from the hospital,” Jane said once her giggles had stopped – pulling Michael out of his thoughts.

“Are you going to fix Jack and make him better?” Georgie asked, big blue eyes looking between Michael and Jane like a lost puppy.

“Of course darling,” Michael said, walking forward towards his youngest son and planting a kiss on the hair that looked so similar to Cate’s before suggesting, “why don’t you three head upstairs and get changed and ready for school?”

“Okay daddy,” Annabelle said, hopping up from her chair as if it was on fire with her brothers following at a little slower pace.

“Thank you for doing breakfast this morning Ellen,” John said as he followed Georgie and Annabelle out of the kitchen.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School has started back up again, so all these updates have been done on my phone on the school bus. I blame any and all errors on the bumpy roads


	13. Chapters 43-46

**\--43--**

Jane watched as Jack’s face dropped as the kids walked out of the kitchen. His smile fell off his face and his shoulders slumped.

Rubbing his right thumb over his bandaged arm, he whispered, “it's hard to pretend.” Jane wasn’t one hundred percent sure what Jack was referring to, but now that the kids had left the kitchen, she noticed that Jack looked a lot more battered again. The pained look crossed his face again and she figured the slump in his shoulders was to take more weight off his hurt ribs.

“Let's get you bandaged back up, yeah?” Jane said, opening her satchel and taking the gauze packs and penicillin vials out. As she placed them on the table, she could see Jack get even more pale, if it was even possible.

“Does that have to go inside me?” Jack asked, sinking backwards into his chair and eyeing the little glass jars with a deep suspicion.

“Only if you say it's okay,” Michael said, trying to sound reassuring. He reached out and put his hand on Jack’s right arm, gently comforting him.

“What does it do?” Jack asked and Jane mentally thanked Michael for keeping Jack calm. The last thing she wanted was for him to start hyperventilating and pass out again.

“This is penicillin,” Jane said, picking up the little vial, “I’m going to give you some because of the cuts on your arm. We don’t know what was on whatever cut you and it could have started an infection underneath the cuts. If we don’t get some of this into you, you could get a very very bad infection.”

“Oh,” was the only thing Jack said, “Do I have to drink it?”

“Not quite,” Jane said, trying not to bite her lip or show her nervousness at telling him how it would actually get inside him. “I would actually have to use a needle and inject it directly into your arm.”

 

**\--44--**

Jack could feel his head start swimming as his breathing started picking up. _A needle, why did it have to be a needle? But you need it to get better. You don’t want an infection. That would be bad. But the needle, its gonna hurt. How is all my blood not going to fall out of my arm?_

“Jack,” a voice said, momentarily pulling him back to the Banks’ kitchen, “just focus on me, okay?” _Was that Michael’s voice? It kinda sound like it. It that Michael’s hand on my knee? Why is he touching me? It’s kinda nice though._

“Jack, slow down your breathing; in for four, out for four,” he could hear Jane saying as two hands took his right one. That touch seemed to be enough to ground him as he started following how Jane told him to breathe as the fog in front of his eyes cleared.

“Hey,” Michael said as Jack looked up at him. He tried to focus on Michael’s eyes, his wonderful face. Each individual hair in his moustache, anything to keep the panic down and away from his brain again.

“Heh, hi Michael,” Jack replied, bringing his hand up to his face and rubbing his eyes.

“Are you okay now?” Jane asked.

“Better, I think,” Jack replied, though he wasn’t sure. He had never gotten stuck by a needle before, but he didn’t think he wanted to ever try it. It didn’t matter to him how trained or not Jane was, he didn’t want something that looked like one of his leerie tools going inside his arm.

“I’m gonna start re-doing your bandages first then,” Jane said and Jack nodded. He had a pretty good idea of what that meant.

 

**\--45--**

“Jack,” Michael said, capturing the attention of the young leerie, “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to take your jacket off so Jane can re-do your arm.” He watched as Jack’s skin turned even more pale – if that was even physically possible.

“Guess yah already know whas’ under ‘ere anyways,” Jack said as he started shrugging off his jacket. Michael reached out and stopped him. The way he said it sounded just the way his kids grumbled about something when they didn’t actually want to do it or they were just doing it because they knew they were supposed to. The last thing he wanted was for Jack to do it against his will, or because he thought he was being forced to do it.

“Jack stop,” Michael said, reaching out and pulling the jacket back onto Jack’s shoulder, covering him back up, “I wanna say something, but you have to promise to listen and not let your brain start running away from you.”

“Fine,” Jack said, pulling away entirely from any touch, “what’s it?”

“We know “what’s under your jacket”, I’m not going to lie and say that we don’t. But you need to understand that it doesn’t change how we’re going to look after you or how we feel about you. Okay? So if you don’t want to take off your jacket, you don’t have to, but in order to fix your bandages, it’ll be easier if you do.”

“Why?” Jack said, covering his face with his hands. He winced as he jostled his left arm, but managed anyways.

“Why do you need to take your jacket off?” Jane asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “because I want to properly bandage the cuts on your shoulder as well as the rest of your arm.”

“Not what I meant,” Jack muttered before saying, “I’m an abomination, why would you want me around your kids? Around yourselves?”

“You’re not an abomination Jack. You are an amazing young man that is just trapped in a body he wasn’t ever supposed to get. Nothing wrong with that. I don’t see anything wrong with it Jack, you have to believe me,” Michael said, reaching forward and pulling Jack’s hands down from his face, “You’re still the leerie that the kids adore, and you’re still our friend. Nothing’s changed.”

 

**\--46--**

See, Jack was not sure what to expect. Because he’d never told anyone his secret. Both his parents had died before he had gotten the chance to tell them. The only other person who knew was Bert. He’d never told Bert, but he figured Bert knew anyways. They had met when Jack was around an age to start...experiencing male-typical growth. And he never did. But Bert never asked or questioned it. He took it as a fact, and that was perfectly fine with Jack.

So when Jane asked him to take off his coat, he figured it was judgement day. Because someone had taken off his bandages. Whether it was Jane or Michael, he had no idea, but it was one of them. One of them had seen and he was waiting for this conversation. Then they said that. Jack had let out a massive sigh of relief, because he really did understand why he had to get his bandages changed. He got that. And he didn’t want his arm to never heal properly. He only got one set of arms, can’t ever get a new pair from the corner store.

“Really?” he asked, looking up and meeting Michael’s eyes for the first time since they had started their...conversation. He needed to know that they were serious. They couldn’t be joking. Not that he had known Jane or Michael to be the joking kind, but he wasn’t sure yet.

“Yeah Jack,” Michael said, meeting his gaze and holding it steady, “really. It doesn’t matter to us.”

“Truly,” Jane added, meeting his eyes when Jack shifted towards her. Jack exhaled heavily through his nose. While it didn’t necessarily calm him down at all, it did slightly reassure him enough to let him shrug his jacket off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates may start to become infrequent. I do shift work and have recently been assigned to night shift so I can do school during the day. Why am telling you this? Because I won't have a ton of time/energy or brain power to put into writing. I'll aim for once every two days, but no promises there.I promise I won't forget about this though
> 
> I'm terrified of needles. I was (am) that kid at school on vaccination day that will pass out. Guaranteed. Every time.


	14. Chapter 47

**\--47--**

John struggled to pull the hair brush through his knotted hair. He hadn’t brushed it at all this weekend and he knew that dad would want him to brush it before school. Actually, dad probably wouldn’t care, but mom would have asked him to do it. Mom always asked them to brush their hair and teeth before school, made sure their clothes were straightened and free from stains.

He remembered when Mary Poppins brought them to the Royal Dalton Music Hall that one evening and Jack had reached down and adjusted Georgie’s jacket. Making sure that it fit on his shoulders properly and all that John had thought was, “Mom used to do that to us.” Jack never seemed big on how they looked, precisely, but it seemed like he enjoyed a good dress up as much as any of them. Just like mom used to.

Mom had gotten sick about three months before she ended up dying. That seemed like ages ago now, but really, it was only a year and half ago. The hospital said that it was cancer, but they couldn’t operate on the tumor. So there was not really anything that could be done other than just watch her slowly die. He could remember the evening that she died. They had moved her to the hospital earlier in the day so that she could have some medicine that made her feel better. She said goodbye to all of her former coworkers – she used to be a nurse at that hospital – before retiring to her bed with a look of utter exhaustion.

John didn’t initially understand that when she closed her eyes that night, that would be the last time he would ever get to see them. He didn’t even really understand now, where did she actually end up going? How could someone just end up...disappearing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this doesn't really further the Jack/Michael story line, but I got the idea, so I wrote it before I forgot about it.


	15. Chapter 48-51

**\--48--**

Jane reached out and begun to unwrap the bandages from around Jack’s left arm. Once she got to the layer closest to his battered skin, Jane proceeded cautiously. Jack inhaled softly through his nose, but otherwise made no indication it hurt other than that.

“So, you’ve worked as a leerie for a while then?” Michael asked as Jane ripped open a package of gauze and added some cleaner to it. Jack hissed in response but otherwise didn’t complain anymore.

“Yeah, since I was twelve. I also used ta do some chimney sweeping wif ma mentor, but I’ve always had bad lungs,” Jack said, a smile crossing his face as a memory seemed to grace his brain. Jane continued wiping down his cuts, making sure they didn’t split open again. She knew that most of the cuts should be stitched shut – but she didn’t have the skills for that and it wasn’t really safe to bring Jack to the hospital. They would heal, but he’d likely have some nasty scars as a reminder for the rest of his life.

“Chimney sweep,” Jane said with a soft snort, remembering watching Bert and his buddies dance on the rooftops of London all those years ago.

“Has your route always been on Cherry Tree Lane?” Michael asked, and Jane smiled as she saw that the two men were holding hands still. Jack didn’t even seem to notice, but if it kept his head grounded, Jane didn’t care.

“Since I started. Was my mentor’s route. When he left ta travel the world, I took it over,” Jack said, his smile growing.

 

 **\--49--**  

“Who was your mentor,” Michael asked. 

“His name was Bert, he worked this street for ages,” Jack replied, looking down at where his and Michael’s hands were still joined. He didn’t mind, he actually really liked it.

“Oh, we knew Bert!” Jane exclaimed, “he was a friend of Mary Poppins, right?”

“Yeah, that’s actually how I ended up meeting her originally,” Jack said.

_After getting his apprenticeship with Bert, the man had offered his couch to Jack so he didn’t have to sleep on the streets. One evening when Bert had already gone to bed, there was a knock at the door, so naturally, Jack answered it so Bert wouldn’t get woken up. In the doorway was a lady that he was sure he had never seen before. She also didn’t look like she was from this part of town originally – no one dressed like that around here._

_“Can I ‘elp yah?” he had asked, his blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders like a cape._

_“Oh dear, do I have the wrong address?” she had said, though she didn’t seem very convinced. Like she wouldn’t be the type to mess up an address._

_“I’mna sure, who youse lookin’ for?” Jack asked again._

_“Bert Dawes, I believe he lives in this building,” the lady said, adjusting her hat as if she was impatient._

_“I don’ know if ‘is name is Dawes, but a Bert does live ‘ere,” Jack said before adding, “if e’s a leerie and chimney sweep, youse gots the right place. Lemme go get ‘im.”_

 

**\--50--**

Jane was dreading when she finally finished re-doing Jack’s bandages. Because that meant that she would have to get him to cooperate to give him the penicillin once she finally finished. Maybe if she was able to keep him talking, she would be able to give him the penicillin without him noticing or being too distracted to notice what would amount to just a tiny prick of the skin.

“You still have any family?” Michael asked.

“Not anymore. Ma da left when I was young, ma mom died when I was twelve. Bert took me in afta’ tha,” Jack said before asking, “Youse parents lived pretty long, yeah?”

“They made it until Georgie was three, I guess that would have been almost three years ago now,” Michael replied, his thumb smoothing circles into Jack’s wrist. It didn’t even seem that Jack noticed it was happening.

Jane tied off the bandage and turned to Jack, “ready for the penicillin?”

“I guess,” Jack muttered, looking at the ground and closing his eyes.

“Let your arm just hang for me,” Jane said, taking his un-bandaged arm and wiping a little cloth over the flesh of his bicep, “alright, we’re gonna count down from five, once you get to one, I’ll put the needle in you, okay?”

Jack nodded, his eyes still closed. Jane pulled the penicillin into the needle and got it ready. She nodded at Michael and they started counting, “five, four, three, two –,” but on two, instead of continuing, Jane stuck the needle into Jack’s arm while Michael continued counting.

Jack’s eyes flew open and he looked at her with surprise. Before he could freak out, Jane administered the antibiotic and pulled the needle out.

 

**\--51--**

 Jack could feel the cold of the penicillin flowing into his arm. Two counts before she said she was going to do it. He couldn’t find it in him to be mad for long when he started focusing on the sensations in his arm instead. It felt really weird and if he concentrated, he could feel it start warming up inside his body.

“Not so bad, right?” Michael said, squeezing his hand. Jack closed his eyes tight and tried to fight against the funny-feeling in his stomach. It didn’t feel like he was going to throw up – not quite. More like if he was standing on a boat and everything was rocking back and forth.

“Feeling okay there Jack?” he heard Jane question over him trying not to rid the contents of his stomach. Instead of saying anything – which may have potentially caused him to throw up – Jack nodded.

“When you look a little less green, we can go upstairs and find you a change of clothes,” Michael suggested. It was then that Jack realized that he had been wearing the same pants, underpants, and undershirt for way longer than one would consider strictly hygienic. He probably stank by now. Maybe he would ask Ellen if she had any old sheets that she wouldn’t mind him cutting up. As nice and worn in as his current bandages are, there was definitely blood on them now and they were wearing a little thin.

“Sounds good,” Jack managed to grunt out once he felt the tossing and turning in his stomach settling.

“I’ll be back tonight and tomorrow to give you the last three doses and you'll be good as new again,” Jane said before standing and putting the extra vials into a tin cookie box on the counter. It appeared instead of a sewing kit, it had been repurposed into a medical kit.

“Let's get you something to wear, c’mon,” Michael said, holding out his hand. Jack grabbed on again and used it to pull himself to standing. It caused his right arm to ache where Jane had stabbed him with the needle, but as they exited into the main entry hall, Jack thought, _this is where I want to stay_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that took a long time to get done. I think I have writers block, aka too much school work, not enough time to do anything fun.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait. I've been so busy lately and dealing with some stuff (if you've read some of the other stuff I've posted recently, that'll give you a decent hint :/ ).
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with the chaos that is this story. I think one more chapter and this section will be ready to get complied into a bigger chapter.
> 
> And thank you to Cristalstarmochi, for your comment, I'm sorry it got deleted while I was compiling the chapters (so you get a shout-out here instead)


	16. Chapters 52-57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the moment y'all've been waiting for (I think (I kinda hope)). I hope you enjoy these five chapters I managed to barf together this evening.

**\--52--**

Michael wasn’t completely sure what he was thinking when he invited Jack into his bedroom for the first time. In his mind’s eye, he always assumed that the first time Jack would have ever came to this part of the house, they would be doing something a lot more...romantically inclined then finding him a new set of clothes to wear for the time being.

Sure, he could have offered to walk with him back to his own apartment and pick up some of Jack’s own clothes, but Michael didn’t really want Jack going out without being able to bandage up his chest properly and still have one arm completely useless. It just wasn’t safe.

“Here’s an undershirt,” Michael said, pulling one out of the drawer it came from. He honestly had no idea how his room was not yet in a state of massive disrepair. Cate always folded and put his clothes away for him. Michael was just too unorganized. Sure, he still ironed his shirts and his pants for work, but his undershirts and underpants – well, no one was going to see them anyways. Why bother folding them neatly when you can just shove them wherever they fit?

“Thanks,” Jack said, taking it from him as Michael turned to go looking for a loose sweater. Jack was a little more...built than Michael was, so finding one of his oversized sweater-vest-shirts would likely fit the young leerie best. In the corner, still sitting on the chair he had put it on after Ellen washed it, was the green and black one that he had worn the day Mary Poppins literally flew into their lives.

Passing it to Jack, he moved to find a pair of underpants. It never once occurred to him to wonder if Jack had a pair of mens underpants. But now he wondered. Did he buy ones for women because they would undoubtedly fit better? Or did he buy mens ones so no one at the store wondered why a guy was buying women's underpants?

 

**\--53--**

Jack had never had a pair of mens underpants. Of all the things he was able to buy without attracting too much suspicion, he never once ended up buying mens underwear. Other than the physical logistical benefits to wearing tight underwear, he still had to deal with...monthly...issues...involving his genitals. Which was never pleasant and – obviously – mens underwear did not accommodate said events. He never saw the point in wasting a part of a paycheque on an article of clothing that no one would ever see. No one would ever know what kind of underwear he owned or wore.

But as Michael passed him the white undergarments, he felt his stomach flutter a little at the prospect of wearing real means underwear. Logically he knew that such a simple gesture of lending him a set of clothes seemed natural to Michael. But to Jack, it felt so...good. He had never had the opportunity to wear men's clothes that were made for a man and that likely would fit him better than the stuff he picked up from the second hand store.

Jack knew he had been staring. But it was hard not to watch Michael as the older man moved around the room with purpose and a sense of presence that Jack admired. It didn’t help that he was so darn cute – his hair a little longer than one would consider strictly professional and his moustache in need of a trim, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of the bedroom. But even as he caught himself staring at Michael, his mouth likely quirked up at the corners, he didn’t think he could stop. There were somethings that he just couldn’t help and considering what Annabelle and John had told him – he didn’t think Michael would mind if he caught him.

 

**\--54--**

Michael knew the feeling of eyes on him well. Between raising three children and working in a customer-service job, he was well accustomed to people staring at him. And he felt eyes on him now. Meaning Jack was staring. _That’s what you want to think. Just get him a change of clothes and get back downstairs and let him change. Send the kids off to school then head to the bank. Simple._

But was Jack staring? Michael wanted to know. He wouldn’t go as far as to say he needed to know – but it would be nice. If Jack didn’t like him in that way, well, he needed to know. But he needed to find out subtly, because the last thing he needed was jail time – or worse, which Michael refused to even consider – for making a move on the one person in his life that he was finally starting to become friends with.

Michael found himself lost in his thoughts as he continued to search through the drawers of his room just to buy himself more time, though he knew Jack had everything he would need to go get changed. Maybe he would find Jack one of his casual dress shirts to wear under the sweater – it did have a rather low neck after all. He continued moving around, trying to remember where he put that soft grey shirt that he had seen a few days somewhere around here when he felt Jack tap him on the shoulder three times.

Michael turned and stood – extending his back so he was standing, and suddenly became very close, face to face with Jack. A million thoughts flew through his head at once, all being silenced by Jack leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

 

**\--55--**

Jack had no idea what he was doing. He was watching Michael’s searching becoming seemingly more and more useless when he decided that he wanted to kiss that adorable half-smile off Michael’s face.

See, Jack had absolutely no experience in the kissing department. At all. Because the times he would go to bars with his leerie friends, he would leave once he noticed his friends getting drunk enough to start attracting any sort of attention in the female form. That was the last thing he needed or wanted. He never let himself get drunk enough to do something that would jeopardize his safety.

But he really wanted to kiss Michael – regardless of how little he knew about kissing. His brain, however, was waging a war inside his skull. John, Annabelle and Georgie had heard Michael say that he liked him before Michael learned about...the thing. What if that changed how Michael saw him? But Michael married a girl before, so he likes girls too then? Or maybe it was obligatory. _What if he doesn’t like me no more because he knows the truth. But they said nothing changed. What if they were wrong? Only one way to find out…_

Jack then found his torso just a foot away from Michael with their lips pressed together. He had no idea if this was kissing or not, but it kinda looked like it. It didn’t really feel like...anything. _Is this what kissing feels like?_

 

**\--56--**

It was in that moment that Michael realized that Jack had no fucking clue what he was doing. It was obvious that he had never kissed someone before nor gotten this close to someone. Because, as exhibit a, his lips were stretched taut over his teeth, lips firmly pressed together. And as exhibit b, he was standing at such an awkward angle that he really had no idea how Jack hadn’t toppled over in an attempt to not make any other contact with him other than with his lips.

Michael pulled back, carefully schooling his features. Jack was skittish and any wrong move or facial expression could potentially freak him out. But then Michael’s brain finally caught up with him. _Jack just kissed me. He kissed me! Jane was right! Does this mean what I think it means? Does Jack like me back? Or was that just a “thank you” kiss. God I hope not._

“You kissed me,” Michael said, the words just barely audible, flowing out of his mouth on a breath of air. He still couldn’t believe it. Jack had kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, his features dropping and his head drooping. Damn, that was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Spooking Jack.

“No no no Jack,” Michael said, reaching out and touching Jack’s smooth chin and raising his head to look at him – their eyes exactly level with each other, “I’m glad you kissed me.”

“Really?” Jack asked and Michael could see the hope sparking behind his eyes again.

“Yeah Jack,” Michael said, dropping his hand and taking Jack’s pile of clothes from his hands. Placing them on the chair beside them, he said, “but can I show you how to kiss properly?”

“I did it wrong?” Jack asked, his voice sounding a little sad.

“Not wrong, I just know a better way,” Michael said.

 

**\--57--**

Jack felt one of Michael’s hands smooth over his bruised cheek and rest lightly beside his ear and the other hand tangle with his now free right hand. Then Michael leaned in one more time and – _oh thats what kissing is supposed to feel like. I guess I was doing it wrong._

He couldn’t have stopped the shiver that raced up his spine if he tried. It felt like his lips were on fire – where they were touching little sparks licked through the soft gap of his lips. Michael’s lips were soft and yet not all at the same time and it felt...perfect.

When Michael pulled away, leaving his hands in place, a huge smile spread across his lips and then Michael was laughing. It was nearly silent and yet it sounded relieved.

“I can’t believe that you kissed me,” Michael said, looking up into his eyes, “do you realize how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

“A while I’m guessing,” Jack said, starting to feel some giggles surfacing as well. Because it suddenly felt like all the weird tension of the last few months that he had been spending with the Banks’ had been leading up to this. It was like they were destined to end up in this place somehow.

“I have to get the kids ready and go to work,” Michael said, as if he had just remembered, “but, if you want, tonight after the kids go to bed, you can try...kissing me again.”

“I think I’d like that,” Jack said and he could feel his heart rate speeding up just as fast as his smile was spreading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!
> 
> As a side note, I'll start a new story to put "kissing tonight" in because I know that's not everyones cup of tea and some of y'all may not want to read that. 
> 
> Love you guys, thank you for all the wonderful support and comments!


	17. Chapters 58-61

**\--58--**

Jane was sitting on the floor in the front room with her niece and nephews, letting them help her assemble her labour march signs. She knew that Jack and Michael had gone upstairs to find something for Jack to change into, but they seemed to be taking an awfully long time. Not that it was any of her business, but she was starting to wonder if they would be back soon. It was almost time for John, Annabelle and Georgie to head off to school, and they would surely go searching for their father before they left the house.

Then she head the sound of feet thumping down the stairs. Jane assumed that Jack had returned to the guest bedroom to change when he didn’t come into the front room, but when Michael turned the corner, the first thing she saw was his positively iridescent smile. Next, she saw how unusually red his lips were and the disruption of his moustache. Barely noticeable upon first glance, but visible had you known him for ages.

She threw a questioning glance at her brother, who replied with one reading, “later.” Without pressing the issue of his smile, Jane continued glueing signs together and let him announce his presence to his children.

“Are you ready to go to school?” he asked, voice a little huskier than usual, but once again, not noticeable had she not been waiting for it.

“Yup!” Georgie said, standing up from his papers and running over to his father, “is Jack going to bring us to school today?”

“Not yet Georgie, he’s still not quite better,” Michael replied, running his fingers through his youngest son’s hair, smoothing down a few pieces of blond hair that had flown out of place, “why don’t you go get your coats and shoes on and we’ll see if Jack will come see you out the door, how does that sound?” Georgie clapped his hands excitedly, seeming enthused by the settlement and ran towards the coat rack, his signs abandoned in favour of getting ready for school.

 

**\--59--**

Jack couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he brought Michael’s clothes back to the room he had taken over. He had kissed Michael and Michael liked it. They both liked it. Jack honestly couldn’t believe it, because who would have known that he would ever have gotten to love someone that he actually loved.

He quickly changed into the new clothes, loose enough that he didn’t have to worry about binding his chest, but tight enough that they didn’t fit awkwardly. Still, once Jane and Michael left, he would ask Ellen if she had any old sheets he could cut up.

Heading back into the living room, Jack saw the Banks’ children getting into their coats and shoes in the front hall.

“Jack,” Georgie shrieked, jumping up from the floor, one shoe on, the other discarded and forgotten.

“Hey Georgie,” Jack said, reaching down to pat Georgie’s hair and noticed that that movement – which definitely jostled his ribs – didn’t hurt as much as it used to. So he was healing.

“Are you going to bring us to school?” Georgie asked, beginning to jump up and down in his excitement.

“Not today Georgie, maybe in a few days,” Jack said. He figured he could probably bike them to school by the time Thursday or Friday came around.

“C’mon Georgie, get your other shoe on or else you’ll be late for school,” Michael said, calling his youngest son away from Jack. Jack watched as Michael not only helped his kids get ready but also piled all his work stuff together into his briefcase – which looked about to explode at the seams.

“Alright,” Michael said once all his children were ready to go, “I’ll be back around five tonight, these guys will be back at their normal time.”

“Have a good day,” Ellen said from where she was standing in the door to the kitchen. Jane gave each of the kids a kiss on the top of the head and a kiss on the cheek for Michael as they headed out the door.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Michael said, a completely harmless statement to anyone but the two of them. Jack may have missed it had Michael not looked right at him and thrown his a barely perceptible wink.

 

**\--60--**

“Ellen?” a voice she now knew to associate with Michael’s young leerie friend called from behind her. She turned to face him and smiled at the sight of him wearing the green and black sweater that Cate had knit for Michael. She knew the young man needed a change of clothes and that sweater seemed to fit him well. And, not that she was complaining, but she wondered when he would heal up enough to go home.

“Yes Jack?” Ellen replied, turning around from where she was washing a massive steel pot in the sink.

“Do you have any old sheets that you don’t need?” Jack asked, but never once met her eyes. It was like he was terrified of asking her for something like that. She had no idea what he was planning on doing with old sheets, but he was old enough that she trusted him to not do anything dumb with them.

“Well,” Ellen said, mentally racking her brain to see if she could remember where she had put that one fit sheet that John had ripped a hole in, “lets go look, why don’t we?” She placed the pot back in the sink and dried her hands on her apron. As they walked out of the kitchen, Jack followed her like a dutiful puppy.

Upstairs in the linen closet, she took down the stack of old sheets that she never used on any beds anymore, for whatever reason. Some were old, stained, or just simply had too big of a rip to waste valuable thread to sew back up again.

“Are you looking for white or will any color do?” Ellen said, placing her hands on her hips and eyeing Jack. She was still slightly confused as to why he would want old sheets, but once again, it really wasn’t any of her business. He would have said had he wanted her to know. Ellen knew a thing or two about keeping secrets and this one seemed important to Jack.

“One white one would be good,” Jack replied, looking down his front at Michael’s sweater. She watched him frown before crossing his uninjured arm over the front of his torso. “Here you go then,” Ellen said, handing him a white sheet. She seemed to think it was one from Cate and Michael’s bed from before Cate passed away. After her death, Michael had bought a whole new set of linens, citing the memories that accompanied them as too painful to think of every time he tried to sleep. He had wanted her to give them away, burn them, whatever, but he never wanted to see them again. Ellen had kept them instead, at the time, it had been on a whim, now she wondered if it was fate.

 

**\--61--**

“Do you have a set of fabric scissors?” Jack asked after taking the sheets from Ellen and holding them close to his chest with his functional arm.

“Downstairs in the sewing kit,” Ellen replied as she started her slow journey back towards the stairs. Jack followed close behind. He could just envision her missing a step or slipping on the stairs. She was really getting too old to be taking more than one flight of stairs at a time. As they headed down the stairs back to the kitchen, Jack smiled to himself. He would be able to make some new bandages for himself – which would be lovely considering his old ones were are ancient as his name. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, considering they were nicely worn in and soft in all the right places. But they were now stained with blood, and that was simply unhygienic.

In the kitchen, Ellen handed him the set of scissors and still did not ask him what he was planning of doing with anything he had asked for. Which he appreciated very much. The fewer the questions the better. The fewer people who knew the truth the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting to think of ways to start wrapping this story up. I don't think I'll stop here with these two, but I think this story in this timeframe is coming to a close pretty soon.


	18. Chapters 62 & 64

**\--62--**

Jack shook awake and was momentarily confused as to where he was. It was still dark outside, but as he became more awake, he remembered where he was. Sleeping. With Michael. _Lets hope I get to stay here for a long while._

He was laying on his back, bandaged arm pillowed on his stomach and his injured ribs, well they didn’t even really hurt today. Looking at the roof, he could see the yellow moon-like light of the lamps on Cherry Tree Lane shining through the window. Silently, he thanked Mary Poppins, willing her to hear his thoughts.

Turning his head, he smiled as he looked over at Michael. He was laying on his side, facing Jack, arms tucked underneath him and he looked like a young child. Michael’s moustache twitched and shifted with every breath he took and Jack couldn’t help but smile before he reached up to his own upper lip, which was upsettingly void of facial hair. He rubbed his thumb along his lip, remembering the feeling of Michael kissing him.

Jack sat up and climbed out of the bed, being careful not to wake Michael. As he stretched, he found that his ribs only emitted a dull pain, no longer pointed and incapacitating. So he was healing. And his arm, while still bandaged was extremely itchy, which Jane had told him was a good thing, it meant it was also healing.

“Mmmm, you’re up early,” Michael said from behind him, his voice scratchy with sleep. Jack turned around, crossing his arms across his bare chest as best as he could. He had wanted to find at least an undershirt before anyone woke up. Before anyone saw.

 

**\--63--**

“Aint early for me,” Jack replied. _Of course,_ Michael thought, _if he was going to turn the lamps off, he would have already left his flat by now._

“Of course, my beautiful leerie,” Michael said, making grabby hands at Jack. If Jack wasn’t going back to his route yet, he could at least come back to bed. Michael missed his space-heater-bed-partner. Jack smiled and, without dropping his arms from where they were covering what should have been flat, came and carefully laid down.

“How does your arm feel?” Michael asked. Jack was obviously still favoring it, but with two of Jane's penicillin shots down, she said that it should start healing considerably faster by now. Jane had offered to walk her niece and nephews to school today, after she redid Jack’s bandages, of course.

“Aint hurt that much no more,” Jack said, resting his head on Michael’s chest as he snuggled back into the blankets. Michael ran the hand not under Jack’s shoulders through his hair, soft as a small puppy’s fur.

“That's wonderful,” Michael said, planting a kiss on Jack’s shoulder. He still couldn’t believe that they were laying here, right now. When he met Cate, he always saw his life with her, till the end of both of their days. Watching their children grow up, grow old together, maybe travel a little. Then she got sick and left them. Michael had spent over a year in emotional purgatory before Mary Poppins “rescued” them. And now they were here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the beginning of the end. Yes the ending is going to be happy because I am an absolute sucker for happy/sappy endings. But these two deserve it


	19. Chapters 64-66

**\--64--**

(One Year Later)

Michael blinked his eyes open when he heard whistling through his open bedroom window. Jack was turning off the last light of his route, the one right outside their house. He quickly got out of bed and dressed, even though it was a weekend. But regardless of the day, he had something he had to do.

Digging through the wardrobe, moving a few keepsake boxes out of the way, he found the little velvet pouch and shoved it deep into the pocket of his pants. Heading downstairs to the kitchen, Michael arrived in the kitchen just as Jack was coming through the front door. There was lamp grease smudged across his cheekbones and his hands were dirtied with soot. As the door closed shut with a click, Michael took Jack’s hat from his head and hung it on its hook before leaning in for a kiss.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” Michael whispered against Jack’s lips, barely an inch apart, “the kids are already helping Ellen.” They could hear the shrieks of excited chatter of the three kids helping Ellen cook up pancakes, at Michael’s request last night.

“Wanna go join ‘em?” Jack said, leaning in for a second kiss before pulling away and leading Michael to the kitchen. He felt his heart start pounding in his chest. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he felt around for the little velvet bag, trying to calm down.

 

**\--65--**

Jack noticed that Michael was a little more stressed than usual, but he shrugged it off. Maybe he had some big them at the bank on Monday. As they took their seats in the kitchen, Jack heard the front door open and close quickly as Jane entered the kitchen.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said, chest heaving as she took her seat next to Ellen. There was a stack of pancakes in the middle of the table that the children were eyeing up and yet Michael hadn’t told them to go ahead. Instead, he was just sitting at his spot, bouncing his knee up and down and staring blankly across the table. Jack watched as Jane obviously kicked Michael under the table and watched him jolt to life.

“Gonna say something before we start eating?” Jane said, as if she was prompting him.

“Yeah,” Michael said rising from his seat and rounding the table to stand beside Jack. Now he was confused. _What on earth was going on? What was Michael doing? Wait, why is he going down on one knee? What is going on?_

 

**\--66--**

“Jack, I still remember the first day we met, when you were with Bert and you were following him around on his route,” Michael said. He knew he was probably going to start rambling, but he wanted Jack to understand how much he loved him, “And you looked so adorable in your oversized jacket. So I ran out onto the street to say “hi” and you smiled and looked at your feet. And you still do that and it's still cute. I’m a lucky guy to have met a guy like you. I know we can’t legally get married, but Jackson Hunter Shapiro, will you marry me?” Michael pulled the ring out of his pocket and couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

What kind of lucky guy gets to propose to two different loves of his life, twice in his life? He watched as Jack’s face contorted from confusion to joy.

“Yeah Michael,” Jack said, standing from his chair, covering his mouth with his left hand, pulling Michael to standing with the other, “of course I’ll marry you, of course.” When Jack pulled him in for a kiss, their first kiss as husbands, Michael felt his heart swell with emotion as the rest of their unconventional family clapped and cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said that this would be the last chapter, but I lied there will be one more after this.
> 
> Told you it would be sappy and happy. I really really really wanted these two to marry, so I did it this way. Obviously, they will never be able to marry, but their symbolic union is good too.


	20. Epilogue

Jack whistled as he and Gertie biked down the uneven cobblestones. Looking out across the Thames, Jack smiled. He remembered back to the day that Mary Poppins had flown into his life for the second time. When he actually had the opportunity to interact with Jane and Michael for the first time in his young adult life. When he started spending time with the Banks’. When he got beat-up and when he healed.

Michael was always there and now, over a year later, he was still there. They fell asleep together, they read together, they raised Michael’s kids together. He wore Michael’s ring on a leather cord around his neck. He had sold his flat and lived with the Banks’. They were a family now, for better or for worse and Jack wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Sure it wasn’t official in anyway, but they were living a life together – as husbands – Jack never even imagined he would have gotten that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with this thing. I hope you all had as good of a time reading it as I did writing it.
> 
> And, I will be starting a WWII story for these two (just so y'all have something to look forward to :))

**Author's Note:**

> These chapters are going to be really short because I don't have a lot of time to write anything monstrous these days. Hopefully it will allow for more updates.
> 
> Also, anytime that something is in italics, its a thought. I'm too lazy to do it any other way, so I'm taking an easy out. 
> 
> Really, I'm just trying to make this as easy as possible to write so I don't loose motivation.
> 
> Jack's canonical full name is Jackson Hunter Shapiro. http://disney.wikia.com/wiki/Jack_(Mary_Poppins)


End file.
